


He's not one to listen

by robbiebabe



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 09:18:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11871276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robbiebabe/pseuds/robbiebabe
Summary: The maid of honor is so out of his league it's not even funny.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a fun thing that I had going round and round in my head for a while, until I decided to write it down. I would love to do a sequel or continuation to it at some point, but not making any promises.

He should be spending this wedding mingling with the guests and making sure the groom doesn’t drink too much, or, God forbid, bail. Instead he’s busy jumping out of his skin every time Hannah, the 22 year old maid of honor, even so much as breathes at him. He’s a bad cousin. And he hasn’t even written his best man speech yet, even though he’s giving it in approximately six hours time.

He sees her in the bowels of the church, where they’re all getting ready, and that baby pink dress should make her look even younger than she is, but instead it emphasizes her hourglass figure, ending just above the knee.

She’s running the show in that tiny little dress, has been flitting around making sure that the flowers get put up correctly and having near constant contact with the caterers at the reception venue, all the while providing emotional support for her sister, the bride, and helping her get dressed. And she doesn’t look the least bit worse for wear.

Hannah and Rich were thrown together to organize a joint bachelor/bachelorette party a few weeks ago, and the more he sees of her, the more intimidated, and allured, he becomes. Today is no different, and he has to will his heart to slow down as he escorts her down the aisle. His eyes drift towards her during the whole ceremony, no matter how much he tries to stop himself. In the capacity of best man and maid of honor, he knows they also have a waltz together to look forward to at the reception.

It does make him feel like a skeevy old man, watching her. At the reception she’s let down her hair and changed her dress into a flowy dark blue one, lots of skin showing through the diamond-shaped cutouts at her waist.

Even though he knows she doesn’t mind him, even laughs at his dry jokes, he understands how she must see him. He’s old enough to be her father, he’s hopelessly uncool, and the way he looks isn’t any kind of appealing. He understands that it hasn’t even crossed her mind to look at him the way he, unadvisedly, looks at her.

After dinner at the head table, chatting to the bride and groom, and making a half-planned, half-improvised (but well-received nonetheless) best man speech, it’s time for the dances.

His cousin and his new wife have gone for a fairly elaborate routine for the dances, taking the floor first by themselves and then having their groomsmen and bridesmaids join them for a second song.

This is when he takes Hannah’s hand to lead her out into a waltz. He hasn’t talked to her much today on account of her being so busy, but she looks happy, if tired.

They haven’t been able to practice this dance before, but they are all just doing simple waltz steps. She’s following his lead seamlessly, so he decides to throw in a few more complicated turns to see if she keeps up. She does, of course. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

“You don’t strike me as a dance kind of guy,” she says conversationally as they leave the dance floor. “But that was pretty smooth.”

He laughs. “I’ve taken some classes. I like being able to do the whole old-fashioned, gentlemanly routine,” he says, distantly aware of what a nerd she must think he is. “What about you?” he asks, instead of dwelling on that thought. “That was, ah, great,” he fumbles, looking for a word that can’t be misconstrued as a creepy attempt at flirtation.

“Thank you,” she says in response, doing a little curtsy where they stand at the edge of the dance floor. “I’m a trained dancer, actually, it’s what I do for a living.”

“No shit!” he exclaims, forgetting himself. “How’d I miss that?”

He could swear she’s blushing. “I don’t know,” she says softly. The music changes in the background, and she looks up at him, not much shorter than him in her heels. “Would you like to see some more of it?”

She holds out her hand, and Rich frowns at it, confused at the offer. But he takes it, of course, and allows her to lead him out onto the floor this time.

It’s not a waltz anymore, it’s just a sort of nondescript slow dance. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to be doing, but places his hand gingerly on her small of her back while she puts hers on his shoulder. He swallows nervously, ends up meeting her brown eyes.

“Not so suave, all of a sudden?” she asks, a twinkle in her eye. “I won’t break, you know.”

He spins her out, brings her back. “What do you mean?”

She lets go of his left hand and reaches behind her to touch the hand that’s on her waist, guiding it more firmly around her, so that his hand dips into the cutout in her dress. Her skin is warm and smooth, and he pulls her tighter to him without realizing what he’s doing.

She holds on tighter to his back, and restores her hand in his.

How he manages to remember to actually dance throughout this is beyond him.

“You are allowed, you know,” she says. “I’ve noticed you looking at me.”

_Shit_. “I’m really sorry,” he responds instantly, a self-deprecating smile on his face.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she says, voice lower than usual. “Like I said. You’re allowed.”

She feels so good in his arms. “Are you sure about that?” he murmurs. The situation has changed on him but as long as she knows what she’s doing, he is totally on board. “I am old enough to be your father.” Not to mention the many other things that should make it impossible for someone like Hannah to want to make advances on someone like him.

“Who cares?” she says.

He spins her out again, pulls her even closer when she comes back. Her chest is practically pressed up against his now, his hand disappearing underneath the soft fabric of her dress. 

He smiles pensively at her. “I was not expecting this.”

“Any complaints?” she asks.

“Not a one.” He hears that the song is winding down, and at the last note, he dips her, which clearly throws her off. He lets his lips graze her cheek before he pulls her back up. He suspects they’re done dancing for the night.

“Where did that come from?” she asks, face a little flushed.

“I go where I’m wanted,” he mumbles, hand back on her waist as he leads her off the floor and towards the head table. They have goodbyes to make.


	2. Chapter 2

She looks a little insecure when the elevator doors close.

“You know we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he says. He can’t help but wonder if she’ll come to her senses before they get to her hotel room.

But she just smiles at him, approaches him, presses close to him. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He looks down into her eyes and sees nothing but surety in them, so he puts the moment of hesitation down to something else.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. He follows her down the hall, hand on the small of her back, and suddenly they’ve got her hotel room to themselves.

He wastes no time pulling her into a kiss, and feels with rising heat her soft curves mold themselves to his body. He pulls her dress up and over her head and throws it on the chair behind them. As soon as he sees her he can’t not touch her, walking her back towards the bed while he unclasps her bra, watching her drop it on the floor.

“Richard,” she whispers against his lips, and distantly he feels her fingers unbutton his shirt. Once it’s unbuttoned all the way she pushes it off his shoulders and runs her hands down his chest. Stubbornly he pushes away the self-doubt, the ‘too good to be true’ feeling, and channels it instead into getting them horizontal. Forcefully he pushes her down onto the bed and blocks her in with his body. The lust-blown look on her face tells him she’s still on board, so he kisses down her chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and spending a little time listening to the sounds he elicits. When her hand cards through his hair roughly he knows it’s time to move on.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, pulling down her panties and spreading her legs before him. Looking up he sees that she is breathing hard, and she is already so wet that he can see it just by looking.

“So are you,” she says unexpectedly, panting.

He scoffs and winks at her, before lowering his mouth exactly where he wants it.


	3. Chapter 3

He wakes up the next morning with Hannah curled up against his chest. She’s looking at him, smiling. His mouth twitches; he almost smiles back. **  
**

She moves up towards his face, eyes locked to his. “So, is this the part where you scramble for the exit?” she asks.

“Do I look like I’m scrambling?” He says back, and grabs her around the waist to lay her on top of him so that she’s straddling him.

She smiles, almost wistfully. “I’m glad to hear that. Do you even know how handsome you are?” She steadies herself with hands on his shoulders, right above his collarbones.

“There’s gotta be something wrong with your eyesight there, sweetheart,” he says, his voice raspy from the alcohol and the exertion.

She shakes her head, moving down to kiss him deeply. He fastens his hand in her sleep-mussed hair, and the sounds she makes go directly to his groin. “You’re strong,” she says, kissing down his neck. “And sexy,” she continues, placing open-mouthed kisses to his chest. The intimacy of it makes him squirm, but it’s creating a simmering heat between them, slow-moving and leisurely.

“And I’ve been so fucking distracted by you this whole week,” she murmurs against his skin, looking up at him briefly.

He shivers at the way she looks at him, then his eyes follow the line of her arm down between her legs, and-

“How long have you been doing that?” He breathes, losing sight of anything else for the moment.

“Long enough,” she says, moving back up along his body and sinking smoothly onto him, enveloping him in warm and tight.

“Jesus Christ,” He manages, hands quickly gripping her hips, as she starts to ride him, slowly. “Wh- what did I do to deserve you?” He asks, pushing back in time with her rocking.

“Ah-” she grabs on to his arm and holds on. “I don’t know- I- I’m feeling pretty lucky here.”

Her steady insistence at how much she genuinely likes him has been washing over him without really sticking this whole time, but he can’t deny the warm feeling that’s settling into his chest. “Come here,” he commands, taking her around the waist and flipping them over, thrusting hard into her to keep himself from going crazy. She holds on tight to his back, scratching him with manicured fingernails, and it only serves to fuel him on.

“Yes,” she moans. “Please- please, Richard-”

He kisses into her mouth to shut her up. Never let it be said Richard Speight doesn’t like to fuck beautiful girls, and it surprises him every time it happens, but he can’t deal with it when they take it upon themselves to fix his self-esteem. As feels himself getting close, he roughly palms her clit, the last few thrusts even tighter as she comes with him, effortlessly, it feels. He stays in her, pressing closer for just a second, reveling in the fact that she let him do that, she doesn’t mind him inside her, and it’s just as much a surprise this time.


	4. Chapter 4

He expects her to come out of the shower reticent or impatient for him to leave, so he’s got his clothes on and is sitting on the edge of the bed by the time she comes out. This is what it is, so he won’t mind if she wants him to leave, but he would rather stay a little while longer if he could. **  
**

“Going somewhere?” she says, and he’ll be damned if she doesn’t look sad.

“Just- don’t wanna outstay my welcome,” he replies, going for honesty.

“I’d love to get some breakfast later, if you want.”

He smiles, wondering at the back of his mind just exactly what she thinks this is, preparing something to say to explain he’s not looking for a relationship, perhaps especially with someone so young. But she beats him to it.

“I’m not looking for a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she says, looking very young in her fluffy white robe and her makeup free countenance.

After a split second he winks at her. “Well, good, ‘cause I’m way too old to be anybody’s boyfriend.”

She rolls her eyes at him, which incidentally doesn’t help him with the ‘feeling old’ thing, but then she smiles. “Get your sexy ass in the shower and then we can get some pancakes,” she says decisively. She looks so cute and innocent he can’t help but untie her robe as he gets close to her, wrapping his arms around her bare waist before running them over her breasts and hard nipples. He leans in for a slow, soft kiss, allowing her to deepen it when she pulls him down by the back of the neck.

“Mhm,” he hums after pulling away, as if he judging the kiss based on quality. “I think that’s better than pancakes. Whataya say you take another shower?”

She rolls her eyes again, but this time she’s smirking. “You sure you’re up to it, old man?”

“I’m not that old,” he says, finally.


End file.
